Page 21 of Bigfoot's Bride

"Swing your partner!" the call yells out and suddenly I'm airborne.

I let out a squeal that's half delight, half terror as he spins me around effortlessly.

Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of Bambi or Steph. They look as though they’re having fun too.

It’s almost a wonder we don’t get trampled on, the three of us being so much shorter than the rest of the revelers.

After what feels like hours (but in a good way), Gruffydd and I collapse onto a bench, both of us breathing heavily and grinning from ear to ear.

"That was...something else," I pant, fanning myself with my hand.

Gruffydd beams at me. "You're a natural."

I snort. "A natural disaster, maybe." But I can't stop smiling.

He jumps up suddenly. "Wait here. I'll get us some refreshments."

As I watch him lumber off towards the food tables, I can't help but notice something odd. Every time a male Sasquatch approaches within ten feet of me, they suddenly veer off in another direction. It happens once, twice, three times.

Gruffydd returns with two plates piled high with an assortment of foods.

"Hey, quick question," I say casually as I accept a plate. "Do I stink or something?"

Gruffydd looks bewildered. "What? No, of course not. You smell like springtime and wildflowers and sunshine and?—"

I hold up a hand to stop his flowery (pun intended) description. "Okay, Romeo. Then why does every other male here avoid me like I'm patient zero in a zombie apocalypse?"

His chest puffs out proudly. "Oh, that. I told them if they came near you, I'd kill them."

I choke on the bite of what I think might be some kind of fruit pastry. "I'm sorry, you what now?"

"Don't worry," he assures me, completely missing my stunned expression. "I'm very efficient at fighting. I could take out anyone who wronged you quickly and cleanly."

"Whoa there, big guy." I pat his furry chest. "Let's dial it back a notch."

He tilts his head, looking puzzled. "You...don't want me to protect and cherish you?"

I can't help but laugh at his earnest confusion. "Protecting and cherishing are great. Murder? Not so much. How about we stick to non-lethal forms of protection?”

His forehead furrows, he crosses his arms over his wide chest, and grunts, “Hmph.”

I click my tongue at him. “Promise me—no killing, okay?"

He looks a bit deflated but nods. "Fine. I promise. No killing." Then he perks up. "But I make no promises about maiming or scarring."

I roll my eyes, but I’m not as annoyed as I pretend to be. His over-the-top protectiveness is oddly endearing. In a Neanderthal sort of way.

As the night wears on and the party starts to wind down, Gruffydd turns to me with a serious expression. "Kiki, about this courting thing. How many dates does it usually require before we can, um..." He trails off, looking adorably flustered.

I bite back a laugh. "Before we can what, Gruffydd?" I bat my eyelashes innocently.

He shifts uncomfortably. "Before we can...share a bed?"

At his words, the sip of water in my mouth goes down the wrong pipe and I’m overtaken by a coughing fit.

This guy keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. A lot. All night. Which is crazy, right? I mean, big hairy guy. Small relatively hairless chick.

He's a Sasquatch, for crying out loud!

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